We Might Die from Medication
by iS2.coheed.and.cambria
Summary: AU Set a month after the Pilot. Sam searches for something to numb how he feels after Jess's death. Little white pills have never looked so much like a saving grace.


Title: All These Pills that I Take Trying to Balance My Brain

**Title: **We might die from Medication, But we'll sure kill all the pain

**Author: **iS2.coheed.and.cambria

**Rating: **T (Drug Use/ Suicide attempt?)

Summary: AU Set a month after the Pilot. Sam searches for something to numb how he feels after Jess's death. Little white pills have never looked so much like a saving grace.

**Disclaimer: **Would you believe me if I said I did own Supernatural?

**A/N: **Hmm I've never doubted my work like I doubt this one. I'm not sure why I just wonder if it works.

- - - - - - -

"We might die from Medication,

But we'll sure kill all the pain."

'Lua' – Bright Eyes

- - - - - - -

You don't understand me.

Person listening to my thoughts. Fellow living breathing creature reading my invisible diary. You may read this and feel as though you have some how entered my brain. Feel like you have somewhat of an understanding on the subject of my current mental state.

You may read this and think you have it all figured out.

But let me tell you something 'friend'. You don't understand me. You will never understand me.

My mind is sacred ground. My heart, the place that burns with the flames of loss, is an unreachable, unattainable place for you. No matter who you are. What affiliation you have with me. No matter what class you took in college, book you read on the human psyche or movie you saw in which the character experienced similar events. No matter what you claim you have under your belt. You will never understand me. Me or what I'm going through.

I close my eyes and see her. Jess. She's set afire above me. Like an angel with no wings or halo. Like a gruesome reflection of the affect I have on those I love. Like my mother. Like the two women I have destroyed merely by being. Or this case. Not being.

Understand me, I left her. I walked out the door to help my brother on a fucking useless hunt. Useless. Because Jess is dead now. And I could spend this entire time talking about that. I could list all the things I've done wrong but that wouldn't really summarize what I'm going through right now. That's just the prelude, the intro.

I am sitting in a motel room, miles away. My brother. He's some place. He said he went out to get some supplies. Went out to get some more of those hardcore painkillers that suddenly disappeared from our med kit.

You may think you understand why they're gone. But you have no fucking idea.

The picture at hand here. It so big. You can't open your eyes wide enough to see it. Where I am. It's vast and never ending. The only time I can fully understand what happened a month ago is when I'm laying back in my bed. Dean's gone out to one his so-called hunts and I'm alone. And I open that bottle and empty it's contents into my mouth and just close my eyes. Hear that little voice in the back of my head whispering, _"You're invincible."_ And that other one screaming, _"Just keep on popping them until you feel like your gonna pass out. Do it, Sam. Feel it."_

And I feel as though my body is sinking. Sinking into a pool of warmth and comfort. I cast away the feeling of overwhelming nausea because this is my place. This is where everything is safe and warm and numb.

And that's not even the best.

You can't understand it, but I'll try to tell you anyway.

Because when I blink and see too many pills have entered my body and the world is dancing before my eyes. It's in those moments that I come so close to dying so close that for the first time since a month ago I feel alive. I feel life in every breath and soon every gasp. I feel life in me rushing to the hospital and life in my stomach being pumped.

I feel life only when I am so close to death. Only when I feel like the wheel has been removed from my grasp and the reigns have gone loose and the only thing that's in control now is that doctor, or Dean. Anyone but myself.

The first time Dean just held my hand so hard I thought I would loose it to his grip. He tried to meet my eyes. Cried and begged and pleaded. Said, "Please help me understand what you're going through. Tell me what's wrong!" held me so close and whispered into my ear, "It's ok. I've got you. What ever it was, please never do it again. You have to stop this, I'm begging you."

He stopped getting me what I needed when he went out for supplies after that. He stopped helping me. He claimed he was but he wasn't. He doesn't understand how to help me.

When I started disappearing late at night in search of any one. Any one who could give me what I need he started caring again.

The second and third times I woke up in a hospital bed it was with Dean's head on my chest. My shirt damp.

I looked him straight in the eye with no compassion and whispered, "Why the hell are you crying."

Because just like he doesn't understand me, I don't understand him. And it made no sense to me when he just cried harder.

The fourth and fifth times he yelled at me. Said he wouldn't get it for me anymore. Said that I was going to kill myself and he'd have no part in it. But I grinned like the heartless bastard I am and said, "I'll just find someone else then."

He shut his mouth right away. We both know he can't control me. That may be the only mutual understanding we share anymore.

You can't understand why Jess's death made me this way. Why instead of anger and revenge I turned to short-term relief and bitterness. You may wonder why I'm so fucking pathetic. But you'll never understand. Not until you've lived my life. No, not until you've lived every life and then lived mine. Not until you've walked in everyone's shoes at least once. Then you will know how I feel, then you will see my place in the world.

I close my eyes and no longer see Jess's body burning on our apartment ceiling. Now I see those little white pills. Bottles emptying their contents everywhere I turn. I close my eyes and feel the pull of need. I feel myself needing that place of absolute bliss. Absolute nothing.

Nothing. That's where I feel safe.

And I understand that you may not understand why I'm taking the largest dose ever now. Why I'm lying in this motel room pouring my secret stash onto the bed. I've been saving up for this. I pour it in the bed and view that small pile and –

And God I can feel life touching me. I need to taste it. No, I need to see Jess. I need to see her.

So I take the pills into my hand and one by one wash them down in a glass of water and lie back in my bed and feel it.

Feel myself sinking. I close my eyes and hear it, my brother's voice like a symphony of grief in the background. Knowing, just knowing that I've taken it too far this time.

And he's moving my body I believe but I'm not really connected to it anymore. I'm floating somewhere, not sure if I should grasp on to his voice or let go and let that comfort consume me.

You wouldn't understand why.

I listen for a moment and hear, "Please don't leave me. Please, we need to find dad. I can't loose both of you…"

And for a moment I feel like I understand my brother. I see inside his brain where he's thinking about us as kids laughing and playing around. I see him thinking about us driving in the Impala together blasting music and acting goofy. I see us hunting and finding dad. I see the future that we almost had, that we could very well still have if I hadn't consumed that pile.

And I feel it again, that loss of control. Only this time it's not Dean or some nameless doctor that's in control. It's my body. My mind.

And they don't exactly get along so I let go. Just let go of everything. Of my brother's dreams, of his voice. I let go of my sudden regret and pain and just let something else carry me to my destiny. Fully aware that I will never truly be happy with where I end up.

And honestly when I open my eyes again I can't tell where I've ended up. Because life's lost it's color and I doubt death has any at all. And even though to any logical person it should be easy to tell if you're dead or alive, it's not for me. Because I lost my logic, I lost my life, I lost my heart and soul and ability to be anything other than numb one month ago. And now I'm so deep inside this safe cocoon that was never really safe at all that I can no longer differentiate between where I am. All I know is that I'm not happy here.

And even if I haven't confused you enough. Even if you think you understand where I am, or what I am. Even if you are positive you know what I am talking about, you don't.

You don't understand me, nobody does or ever will.

And let me tell you, it's the universal feeling that all us are trapped inside. We are all alone, but me? I'm just a little more alone than others.

- - - - - - -

**A/N: **I'm not so sure about this one. Any constructive criticism would be great!

-Lilia


End file.
